


i'll be your crutch if you need help walking

by pixies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 19:44:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1359544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixies/pseuds/pixies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>zayn knows niall is hurting and wants to take care of him</p>
<p>(aka niall hurts his knee and zayn takes care of his boy)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'll be your crutch if you need help walking

**Author's Note:**

> fluff fluff fluff its honest to god all i know how to do (originally written in october of 2012)
> 
> disclaimer i made this up i own nothing i mean no harm
> 
> warning there's an appalling lack of capitalization in this i'm not sure why i was opposed to them back when i wrote this o well

zayn catches niall wincing as he steps off stage from the corner of his eye. before he can get over to him, though, there’s someone patting him on the back and people all around them, congratulating them on their performance and asking for photos and interviews.

he smiles and obliges, posing with the people backstage and answering questions for the interviewers he’s becoming familiar with- but his focus is on niall primarily, keeping an eye on him from across the room, even as he’s answering a question about their new single and the upcoming album.

he follows niall up to his flat wordlessly once they get dropped off; when they get into the lift, zayn slips an arm around niall’s waist and curls a hand around his hip, squeezing gently until niall gets the picture and shifts so he’s leaning his weight on zayn, his arm around his shoulders.

niall knocks his forehead against zayn’s temple lightly, his way of saying thank you, and zayn just squeezes his hip, his thumb slipping up under the hem of his white tshirt to rub at niall’s hipbone to say you’re welcome.

they make their way to niall’s- slowly but surely, with niall hobbling freely now that he knows the jig is up, that zayn knows he’s hurting, and zayn uses his key to unlock the door and push it open.

“go sit down?” he asks, a quiet command, and niall nods before limping into the living room. zayn hears him hiss as he sits and gets situated on the couch, and then he hears the television click on. he locks the door and kicks off his shoes before making his way into the kitchen, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer and two beers from the fridge.

“here,” he says, handing niall a beer. he lifts niall’s leg gingerly so that he can slide under it and sit on the couch, niall’s leg propped up on his lap, and sets the ice pack on top of his knee. “i knew it was a bad idea-“

“wasn’t gonna miss it, z,” niall cuts him off. he reaches out to tug at the sleeve of zayn’s t-shirt.

“no, i know,” zayn responds. “’course not. just hate that you’re hurting now, is all.”

niall doesn’t really know how to respond, but he’s grateful that zayn’s there, and he tugs at the sleeve of his shirt again. “hey, c’mere.”

zayn glances over at him and niall just cocks his head at him, waiting; zayn maneuvers carefully so he’s lying on his side in between niall and the back of the couch, hooking his own leg over niall’s good one and slipping his arm around niall’s middle.

“don’t have to look after me,” niall says lowly, cheek pressed to the top of zayn’s head.

“i know that,” zayn replies, and shifts so he’s looking up at niall, his head rested on his shoulder. niall sees the invitation in his eyes and ducks down to press a kiss to zayn’s lips. he pulls away after a second, and zayn follows him up, chasing his kiss and dropping a quick, nipping peck to his bottom lip before pulling back enough to meet his eyes. “but you know i’m gonna.”

“well, if i can’t stop you,” niall smiles, shrugging as if to say ‘oh well, what can ya do?’

they settle in after that, watching some stupid pothead movie that has them both in stitches even though they’ve each seen it numerous times. zayn gets up to take the ice pack back to the freezer and get the heating pad from the cupboard- ice, heat, rest, ice, heat, rest, the internet said- as well as some anti-inflammatory medicine after he tentatively prods at niall’s knee and feels just how swollen it really is.

“here,” he says, handing niall the pills and a glass of water. “it’ll help with the swelling.”

“my very own personal doctor,” niall smirks up at him, but accepts what he’s offering. “thanks, z.”

“no worries,” zayn says, taking the glass back once niall has taken the medicine. “you ready to go to bed?”

“yeah, s’been a long day,” niall answers before slowly maneuvering himself up and off the couch. he stands up hesitantly and winces before sitting right back down. “actually, i think i’ll wait for you.”

zayn rubs niall’s shoulder gently and then goes to deposit the glass in the kitchen sink before returning to the living room; he ducks so niall can loop his arm around his shoulders, and then, wrapping his own arm around niall’s waist, stands, pulling niall up with him.

“good?” he asks, giving niall a moment to accommodate.

“yeah, almost. just,” niall mutters, eyes closed and jaw clenched. he takes a deep breath, readying himself, and opens his eyes. “alright, yeah, m’good.”

it’s a slow journey, but eventually zayn gets the two of them to niall’s room, where niall plops himself not so gracefully on the edge of the bed. his knee has stiffened up since they’ve been back, and he curses, but zayn just shh-es him and helps him pull off his sneakers and then his jeans before helping him get situated against the pillows.

“c’mere,” niall says for the second time that night, letting his eyes roam unabashedly across zayn’s body as zayn strips his own clothing off until he’s just in his boxers. he smiles when zayn slides into bed beside him, scooting down so he’s lying on his back and opening his arms, waiting for zayn to curl into them. “missed you lately. glad you got to head home for a bit, though.”

“same,” zayn says, head resting on niall’s shoulder and fingers tapping out a rhythm-less beat across his side. “we’ve got the next couple of days to ourselves, though, we can make up for some lost time.”

“dunno how much lost time we can make up with me being all gimpy and laid up,” niall says, eyes slipping shut when zayn reaches down to massage at his knee. it hurts at first, but it’s a good hurt, and zayn’s fingers are gentle around his swollen kneecap, massaging at the area that’s been aching dully since he re-tweaked it playing footy in the park a few days ago.

“sure we’ll think of something,” zayn cheeks, and niall laughs.

“why, mr. malik!” he says, feigning offense. “what kind of girl do you think i am?”

“shut up, ni,” zayn retorts, but it’s affectionate, and he pushes up until he’s resting on an elbow, ducking down to kiss niall softly, smiling into the kiss when niall sighs happily against his mouth and reaches up to push his fingers into the hair at the back of his head, scratching lightly at his scalp.

zayn pulls back after a moment and leans over niall to switch off the lamp that’s on his nightstand, bathing the room in darkness before dropping back so he’s on his side, curled around niall, head pillowed on his shoulder and nose pressed into his neck.

“night, z. thank you,” niall says after a moment, and zayn can tell his exhaustion has finally caught up with him by the way his words drag out and run together.

“'course, babe,” zayn replies, and waits for niall’s breathing to deepen and even out, making sure he’s able to sleep even with his knee bothering him, before closing his eyes and drifting off himself.


End file.
